There's an alternate universe where FilmFair (who made the beloved original Wombles series) were given movie money and the genius Ivor Wood gave UK cinemas a stop motion 70's spectacular like Dougal and the Blue Cat. That didn't happen, and instead they flung money at the endearing but deeply inconsistent Lionel Jeffries who turned out this strange meandering racist mess. No puppets here but nightmare concoctions of short actors in unwieldy suits stumbling around places that aren't Wimbledon. A young Bonnie Langord affects a lisp and befriends them whilst Frances De La Tour drinks and tries to forget. David Tomlinson does a solid job at being a thin cipher of Reginald Perrin and George Banks (and he even, depressingly, makes a Mary Poppins reference). Without Cribbins, without Wood, the Wombles were indeed lost.
Review of Wombling Free
